


Wake Up

by Aystron



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Depression, Drugs, Eventual Romance, Gay Male Character, M/M, Post-War, Sexual Content, Survival Horror, Tags May Change, Violence, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-18 02:15:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13090284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aystron/pseuds/Aystron
Summary: Sole Survivor Ethan has lost both his husband and child to Valt-tec's mistakes and picked a choice: vulnerability or security. With Hancock by his side, security has taken its toll on the two, and what started off as survival may shift into more than either anticipated.





	Wake Up

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic... For Fallout... In general o.o

****_Wake up..." His words are a distant memory in my mind._

_"Wake up." Like a repeating dagger twisting through the scrambled pieces that remain of my heart._

_"Wake up!" Nate's soft but hoarse voice danced across my dream._

_I watch my body open its eyes, look at him and smile. My dull, green eyes looked into his mesmerizing blue._

_"We're going to be late, hon! Get up already!" he laughed, his soft hand reaching for my form's arm. I want to reach for him, to touch his face just one last time, but... I can't move. Stuck in the doorway, I can only manage to raise a hand, my eyes staring beyond my slim, outstretched fingers at the two bodies in the bed. I couldn't move._

_My dreams were often like this. I would remember, and it would feel so real, but it was only just a memory and I was always stuck in place, forced to watch it all over again._

_I watch as my body sits up in the bed;_ our _bed, that shares so many fond memories between me and my husband. It holds memories of our first love, memories of the days he would scream in pain from the burn that scorched his throat. He would scream in agony for hours, screams that would haunt me, screams that_ still _haunt me... knowing that I could only lay beside him and listen._

_My figure hugs him, my skinny arms wrapping around him._

_It feels like watching someone else live my life._

_The figure of_ me _trailed his fingers down my husband's face, careful not to tread over the burn scarring. They both got up and walked to the bathroom, hand in hand. The bathroom passed_ me _\- their bodies passed through me like ghosts, left me panting. Then I looked on after them, my gaze catching their movements like a camera with a roll of film._

"Hey!" Hancock nudges me with his boot from where he's sitting in the armchair next to my sleeping bag. I quickly woke up; my finger nails wore blood and skin. Then I realize I had been clenching my fists while I dreamt, probably the reason to why he woke me up.

"You were dreaming again. I dunno what of, but it musta been _some_ dream to make you scratch up your palms enough to bleed. _Mine_ are supposed to do that. Not yours," he laughed. His hoarse voice matches my husband's... but still, it's different.

I sit up, resting my elbow on my knee and my chin on my hand, and stare up at him.

"Like hell. It's probably just old wounds opening up. I told you, I don't dream those anymore," I scoff and run my fingers through my hair.

"I'm hungry," I mutter. Hancock shrugs, holding out his hand to me. Of course... drugs. It's not like I can judge him. We both take 'em. Either to get high or to try and cope with whatever the hell we're feeling: Starvation, depression, pain, etc.

I take it. It only takes maybe... a few minutes for it to kick in. Of course, I'm still starving, but at least I don't have to feel it.

We finally got ourselves ready for the day. Preston called us in to save another settlement.

Don't get me wrong, I would live with guilt if I ever refused, but there's just so damn many... We're already going off of no sleep. I'm not actually sure if a ghoul needs sleep.... I sure know I do. Hancock hasn't really complained, but I'm pretty sure I've heard a few snores from him before. I don't really know, though.

He always waits for me to fall asleep first. I'm kinda starting to think he doesn't trust me. But, maybe he actually trusts me so much that he wants to watch over me? I shrug nonchalently in reply to my thoughts and Hancock raises an eyebrow at me but then moves on, crouched down to be silent. I follow.

He usually knows where the trouble is, a "sixth sense" he calls it. We walked slowly, and occasionally I would raise my sniper, peering through the scope. Finally, something catches my eye.

We were told the settlers needed the land clear of super mutants so that they could claim it. We never really pay much attention to who they need us to take out, we mainly just... take 'em out. This time was different, though. They aren't just mutants, they're _brutes_ . The last brute I tried to take out on my own left me crippled for a week. This is a _group_.

I look at Hancock, whose eyes are already steadied on the biggest.

Take out the threat, then the followers- that's our motto. Aside from the "Of The People, For The People" motto that Hancock taught me.

My sniper rests against my shoulder, which is padded for safety from the rifle's recoil that has left me sore plenty of times.

I change my focus to the big brute that Hancock's watching.

"This doesn't look good.." he whispers. I nod, my breathing shaky.

I put my finger on the trigger.

I take a deep breath to keep my aim from swaying, pulling the trigger once my scope landed on his head. Somehow, the fucking thing didn't die.

"Who's there?!" He yells, his sledgehammer draped over his shoulder, his eyes narrowed, looking for us.

I hear a mutant behind us growl.

"I smell a human..." His voice was as rough as his skin looked. Hancock ran out from the shadows we were hiding in, holding the pink sledghammer I got as a gift from a pack of raiders I befriended.

"It's either me or you!" Hancock screams, raising the hammer. Before he could even throw the hit, though the mutant beat him to it. He smacked Hancock in the stomach with it, makng him fly back to where I stayed hidden.

"Hancock!!" I yell.

He can't get up, I know that for a fact. He got his breath knocked out of him.

I switch out my sniper for my shotgun. I'm already in close range- the shots should split through his skin. I pull back the hammer and shoot. The mutant stumbled. I shoot again, reloading afterwards.

The mutant grabbed me, his mouth dripping with blood and saliva, his hand gripping my throat as if he were holding a mere chicken leg.

I gasp for breath.

He lifts me up until my toes can't touch the dirt anymore. I strain;choking, gasping, attempting to kick at the wounds I suffered him. My fingers scratch at his rough skin and he laughs.

"You think you can ever beat us? WE. ARE. _SUPERIOR_!" He laughs, his words filled with pride. He squeezes harder.

I feel something inside of me crack. I scream, eliciting raspy gasps and chokes that I could barely hear myself.

"P...Pl-ease..." I utter, using the last of my breath to beg Death.

The brute squeezes my throat harder until I feel dizzy, my vision blackening. My throat burns and I can only feel pins and needles piercing my lips and jaw. My eyes feel like they're going to explode. My fingernails that dig into his skin fall away.

I'm dying.

_"Hey, hon? Can you check on Sean? I've really got to talk to this guy or he'll be at the door for hours. Something about "looking forward for the future"...?" Nate's voice echoes through my ears. I laugh and stand._

_"Of course he would." My voice... it's_ mine _. I can move my fingers. I can stand. There is no other_ me _anywhere._

_I raise my hand up to my face, my fingers caressing my soft,_ healthy _, skin. I feel my eyes swell with tears._

_I run to Nate and hug him. "I missed you so much!!!_ GOD _I love you!" I cry, but it's mental, only in my head. My tears won't leave my eyes._

_Nate glances back at me, chuckling. "Hon, I was only gone for a little while. Go check on Sean, please. I think he's asleep. I don't hear him anymore, but just to be safe."_

_I nod, smiling. My smile grows even bigger when I remember my baby boy. I remember feeding him from all of our little bottles, wondering how he could possibly drink so much. I wanted to run to him, but my legs stopped moving. I couldn't look back at Nate. I couldn't move anywhere anymore. I could only continue walking down the hallway._

_The lights start flickering._

_"Sean...?" I whisper. "B...Baby...?" I call._

_He won't cry. He won't giggle. Not even nonsense blabbers._

_"Sean?!" I scream, watching the hallway stretch out further. The floor creaks beneath my feet. I start running._

_"Sean!!!" I scream again. I hear him cry. Not cries..._ screams _._

_His screams are painful, like a rabbit caught in a trap. The lights shatter, the glass getting caught in my hair, piercing my skin, but no blood being drawn._

_I reach for the door handle to his room, but it won't open. I try slamming into it, my bones cracking from the impact._

_"Sean!" I yell, my voice growing raspy._

_The door creaks open... slowly, my body falling against it._

_I scramble up to stand, and trip over myself. I reach for his crib, but my hand slips. Blood drenches the white bars. I feel tears pour down my face._

_I fall to my knees after trying to stand. My body feels heavy. I grab his crib, and pull myself up. But the crib collapses, broken into pieces._

_I stare at what remains of my child, a bloody skeleton. I scream, but no sound cames through my lips. I try picking up my infant, choking back sobs. His bones fall between my fingers, his blood mixed with mine. He's so fragile, his bones breaking into pieces in my hands._

_I cry for an eternity._

_Blood splatters onto my face, wetting my dry lips. I fall to the ground, coughing and choking on my own blood, spit, and breath. Grunting, I crawl just a few paces before falling onto my stomach, gasping for what little breaths my body will allow me. My vision blurred, I can only steal a glance of my savior before falling unconsious.  
Hancock._

_  
l.l_

  
"Do you think he'll be okay?" I ask, rubbing the nape of my neck. It'd been hours since we failed creating the new settlement. The mutants were growing in power and right now with Ethan in his condition, we are in no possible way ready to fight back.  


_"Why wouldn't he be? He's only lost everyone he ever knew and know forced to live a life of more agony and war. No, he'll be fine," Preston scoffs hammering another nail into the broken wall._  
  
Preston was Ethan's first real friend since his awakening. He was the first person to get and give help back in the old building when raiders had them trapped.  
  
I remember Ethan always boasting about how he got to walk inside of a power armor suit. He's so damn proud of it, he doesn't realize how many raiders have done the same thing. This kinda caused a tension between Preston and myself. He never took much of a liking to me, even before when he made his trips to Goodneighbor.  
  
"Look, I care about him just as much as you. You're not the only one who got his life saved from this kid. Don't forget, he's the one who got me out of the shithole and saved your ass," I yell, standing.  
  
"No, you know what? Fuck you. I'm gonna go take a hit," I snarl, grabbing one of my last stashes of jet.  
Ethan doesn't know I have this drug. I haven't slept in weeks. Manipulating my mind into thinking that time hasn't passed is the only thing right now that's keeping me in this state.  
  
I sit beside Ethan, looking down at my sleeping friend. Puffing in a hit of jet, I sigh, reaching down to touch his hand with mine.  
Ethan doesn't know my true feelings for him. He can't know. Preston's right, Ethan's lost so much. He's never going to get better. He'd never accept me.  
  
"Agh!!!" I scream, hitting the mutant again. His blood sprays onto my coat. "Die already!" I pant, my hands shaking in fear.  
I've never fought something like this on my own before. This was the last one. The last damned mutant.  
  
I drop the sledghammer, starring at Ethan who lay still. My bloodied hands feel across his chest for any movement.  
  
Nothing.  
  
Come on. Get up, Ethan. Wake up!  
I shake him by the shoulders, my nails digging into his clothes.  
  
You aren't dead... You can't be dead.  
  
I strain, pulling him up. He's so light, but my arm is torn and my hip feels broken. Hoisting him up over my shoulder, I drag him with me.  
"You're okay. You're gonna be okay," I whisper repeatedly, my voice trembling, panicking while trying to force myself to believe it.  
  
I hear him gasp for breath and start to choke. Stopping, I lay him down, my hand under his head.  
"Ethan! Breathe, calm down- just breathe," I tell him, trying to hold him still as he retches in pain, twisting his body.  
  
He cries out in agony, small whimpers escaping his lips. "M...Make it...stop," he utters out in a loud cry, his hands scratching at his chest.  
  
"I know! I know it hurts, we're safe now. They're gone," I tell him, holding his arms.  
  
He stares at me for what feels for an eternity, but I know only lasted for seconds, before closing his eyes.  
  
I lift him back up, groaning in pain. The drugs are effective, but they're wearing off. I feel the knives scratching at my arm, my bone cracking.

Panting, I carry him for hours. We finally reach home. Sanctuary. The settlers that moved in stare at us, whispering to each other, pointing at Ethan, gasping and screaming at the blood that covered us.   
  
Preston paces across the road that runs through the middle of the settlement. He's at the far end by the time we reach the entrance, beside the sign that welcomes us. It wears the writing of our mottoes.   
  
"Preston!" I call for him, my legs nearly failing to stand from the journey.   
He didn't hear us.   
  
Ethan never woke, not once on the way here. He only breathed onto my neck. I couldn't move my arm at all at this point, it hung beside my waist. I call for him again, coughing up my own blood. He finally looked at us, his stern eyes staring at Ethan, his only concern. He ran over to us, calling over the rest of the Minutemen.   
  
We followed the group inside. Mama Murphy gives me a hit of her own stash of jet.  
  
"This'll be a tough one, kid. If I hadn't listened to Preston and taken just a little bit of these drugs, the sight would've shown me. We could've helped," she claims with her nearly monotone voice.  
  
"Mama Murphy, there wasn't much you guys could've done. Those mutants would have all of our heads sitting on platters by now if you were there. We're lucky enough that we both got out alive," I state.   
  
I'm in a different room than Ethan; he was put in Preston's room of course... to be monitored. They all took him from me once we started to head inside. I never once got to see him since then. I can hear everyone talking casually, not giving a damn about me. I'm a ghoul; no one pays much attention to me. No one ever has.  
  
Not until I met Ethan. 

**Author's Note:**

> Should I continue? I wrote this at 5 am after having an idea wake me up.  
> Please comment below! ^.^


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